


The Worst Blind Date Ever!

by Mauve_Avenger



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 04:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16319465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mauve_Avenger/pseuds/Mauve_Avenger
Summary: What's the worst blind date you've ever been on? Katara bets she's had worse.





	The Worst Blind Date Ever!

 

The woman had caught his eye immediately when she walked in. She was far too elegant looking for this spot. The _Jasmine Dragon_ was a glorified dive bar. At best the regular patrons wore jeans and whichever of their shirts had the fewest stains. She stood out in her navy blue cocktail dress and gold strappy heels, but she didn’t seem self-conscious about it. She was on a date of course. She had to be, or she probably wouldn't be so dressed up. Zuko's mouth twitched down in anticipation of disappointment as he moved down the bar to take her order.

 

“Can I get you anything?” he asked. She looked up at him with the bluest eyes Zuko had ever seen.

 

“I’ll take whatever brand of orange soda you’ve got,” she said with a bright smile.  Zuko’s mouth went dry, and his shoulders went up slightly the way they did when he was uncomfortable. He didn’t trust his voice just then, so he just nodded and went to get her order.

 

 _What would Uncle say?_ He wondered. His uncle was the most charming man Zuko had ever known. If _he_ were in the bar that night, he would have already gotten the woman’s name and life’s story, and been talking his nephew up. It would have been slightly humiliating, but at least he would have facilitated some sort of conversation between Zuko and the beautiful woman at the end of the bar.

 

Zuko blew his hair away from his eyes, and filled the  glass with ice and soda. It was just as well. Zuko was on the clock, and it may have creeped the woman out if the scar-faced bartender started flirting with her while she was so _obviously_ waiting on her date. She thanked him when he returned with her drink and opened a tab.

 

“I may need something a bit stiffer in a few minutes,” she told him, taking a sip. “I let my friend set me up on a blind date, and I’m a little nervous.”

 

“...oh?” was all Zuko could think of to say. It seemed to be all the prompting she needed to keep talking. As a bartender, Zuko was used to this. The bar wasn’t busy yet, so he could afford to linger.

 

“Third one this year,” the woman sighed. “I keep saying that ‘this is the last time’, but I think this will definitely be the last time.He’s already screwing up and he’s not even here yet.”  Zuko picked up a rag and wiped down her section of the bar.

 

“What did he do?” he asked, curious in spite of himself. She motioned to her dress.

 

“He told me to wear something nice,” she said. “Then has me meet him... _here_ ?”- Zuko balked at that, and she waved her hands emphatically- “Don’t get me wrong, this place seems really cool, it’s just... a lot more casual than Jet let me believe.I could have gone _so_ much lighter on my makeup.” She slumped against the bar and looked up at Zuko with pleading eyes. “Tell me the truth, how pretentious do I look right now?”

 

“I...I think you look nice,” Zuko told her. The woman tilted her head to the side, spilling her long, wavy brown hair over her shoulder.

“Thank you!” she said sincerely. “But, come on, I’m a _little_ overdressed, right?”

 

“Well, just a bit,” Zuko admitted. Another guest came to the bar then, calling Zuko back to work.

 

“Duty calls,” the woman said motioning her head at the customer. Zuko nodded.

 

“Let me know if you need anything else.”

 

“Thanks...er…”

 

“Zuko.”

 

“Thanks, Zuko. I’m Katara, by the way.” Zuko nodded in acknowledgement. He took the new patron’s order, and the others that came in after, but his gaze kept drifting over to Katara. She was looking at her phone and shooting frequent glances at the door, the beginnings of a frown on her face. When she finished her drink, Zuko went back over to collect the empty glass.

 

“Can I get you anything else?” he asked. He silently cursed his inability to start conversations, and wished once again that his uncle was there. Katara looked up at him and shrugged, drumming her fingers against the counter. Zuko knew the signs. Her date was late.  

 

“Bring me your favorite drink,” she said. Zuko nodded with a hint of a smile and came back a few minutes later with a tall glass filled with dark liquid. Katara took an experimental sip through the straw.

 

“Ember Island Iced Tea?” she guessed. Zuko nodded. “You kind of struck me as a whiskey guy.” Zuko smirked and folded his arms.

 

“There’s whiskey in it,” he told her. Katara let out a snort of laughter, then slapped her hand over her mouth in embarrassment.

 

“That was pretty,” she mumbled. “Better not do that when Jet gets here.”

 

“No, it was...cute.” Zuko felt his face heat up. He hoped the lights were dim enough to hide it, but as he could see the hint of a blush on Katara’s dusky cheeks, he doubted it.

“Thanks…” she said quietly. She looked up at him a moment later and began to say something, but someone came in just then.

 

“Hey, Katara!” Katara glanced over her shoulder, and then quickly turned back to the bar.

 

“You have _got_ to be kidding!” she muttered. Zuko thought he knew why immediately. Her date had come in wearing jeans and a printed tee. A brown leather jacket completed the outfit. His hair and stubble was scruffy in the way that took hours to get just right. He looked right at home in the bar. And he made Katara look even more overdressed. Katara’s face flushed a deep red and she quickly finished her drink.

 

“You look amazing,” Jet said, slinging an arm around Katara’s stiff shoulders. “A total smokeshow.”

 

“And you look...comfortable,” she said with a polite smile. Zuko could already tell this was not going to end well for Jet, but the other man seemed oblivious at the moment. “I thought you said to dress up.”

 

“I figured you’d look up the place first,” Jet replied with a shrug. “It takes no time to do an internet search. But, hey, I'm not complaining.” His arm slid from her shoulders to her waist.  Katara’s nostrils flared and the corners of her mouth tightened. “Let’s get a table.”

 

“You go ahead,” she told Jet. “I need to settle my tab.”

 

“Can you get me a coke and rum first? Thanks!” Jet went to the host and asked for a table. Katara watched him leave with a groan.

 

“I swear to La this is the _last_ date I let _any_ of my friends set me up on. What do I owe you?” Zuko waved her off.

 

“It’s on the house,” he told her. Katara raised an eyebrow.

 

“ _Three_ free drinks?” she asked. Zuko shrugged.

 

“I didn’t hear his order, did you?” Katara grinned at him.

 

“Thanks,” she said. She slid off the stool. “Welp! Better get this over with.”

 

“Wait!” Zuko reached out towards her, stopping just short of her shoulder. Katara looked back expectantly. He pulled his arm back and slid his hands into his pockets.  “Um...if...if you need an out, just ask your waiter for a _Blue Spirit._  It’s code to let me know to call you a cab. He’ll come back and tell you we’re all out when the cab gets here.”

 

“That’s a really cool system,” Katara said. “Did you think it up?” Zuko flushed and shrugged noncommittally.

 

“Sometimes you need to make a quick escape, you know?” Katara nodded in agreement, and smiled at him.

 

“Thanks, Zuko.” She walked over towards the table Jet had gotten them, ignoring, or maybe just oblivious to the appreciative stares of a couple of diners as she passed.

 

“She’s hot.” Zuko turned to find one of the waiters, Haru standing behind him. “Did you get her number?”

 

“She’s on a date,” Zuko told him. Haru snorted.

 

“ _That_ guy?” he scoffed. “No _way_ that goes anywhere. The guy’s a tool. And I saw you over here getting your flirt on.” Haru poked Zuko playfully with his elbow.

 

“That wasn’t flirting,” Zuko insisted. “We were just...talking.”  Haru fixed him with a pointed look.

 

“For _you_ that’s flirting,” he said. “You have the social skills of an agoraphobic stone lobster. The fact that you were saying more than one word at a time is a miracle. Iroh’d be so proud!”  Zuko scowled at Haru.

 

“Don’t you have orders to take?” he asked. Haru pulled a pad of paper out of his apron and handed it to Zuko.

 

“I need two mudslides and a pink rabbaroo for the girls’ night out table, and a bottle  of sake for the table of cranky old guys who just got off work.”Zuko passed him the bottle, and Haru spun on his heels and left the bar area. “Also, you’d be an idiot to let her leave without at least _asking_ for her number. You never know.”

 

Zuko huffed irritably and set to making the order. He did, despite Haru’s assertion, know how asking  a woman like Katara for her number would go. She seemed nice, so she’d probably let him down easy, but there was no way she would go for a taciturn, curmudgeonly bartender with a disfiguring scar across half of his face. Besides, he was in grad school. Between studying and work he never had time for a social life anyway. It was better to forget about Katara and her easy smile.

 

Haru came back a few minutes later for the drink orders. He had a look on his face that screamed he had news.

 

“That guy is crashing and burning, and he doesn’t even realize  it!” Haru hissed at Zuko. “I was there to drop off the menus and he managed to ask her three questions and not let her answer any of them before he started talking about himself. ‘ _But enough about me,’_ he mocked Katara’s date, “ _What do_ **_you_ ** _think about me?_ ” Haru guffawed. Zuko couldn’t bring himself to be happy about it, though. He already knew Jet was going to ruin things for himself. It didn’t change anything else.

 

“Your girls’ night order,” Zuko said, sliding the tray towards Haru.

 

“Thanks.” Haru carefully balanced the tray on one hand. He shot Zuko one last significant glance. “I’ll go over and ask if they’re ready for drinks in a few minutes.” Zuko nodded. He pulled out his phone and scrolled down to the cab company’s number. He had a feeling.

 

Sure enough, Haru was back moments later with a thunderous look on his face.

 

“What’s wrong?” Zuko asked. Haru slammed the order slip on the counter.

 

“That guy’s a real piece of work,” Haru said. “He snapped at me for interrupting what was probably a really boring story anyway. Then he _demanded_ that the _deaf_ _freak_ at the bar send him the coke and rum he ordered _on the house_ , and told me not to expect a tip.” Zuko had flinched at the ‘deaf freak’ crack but didn’t otherwise react. He had heard it all before. Haru seemed angrier about the insult than he was. He just wished Jet hadn't said that in front of Katara.

 

“ _Obviously,_ she wants the Blue Spirit,” Haru continued. “And _I_ want you to look away while I spit in that jerk’s drink.” Zuko smirked, and shook his head.

 

“You know what Uncle would say.” Haru rolled his eyes and recited Iroh’s golden rule.

 

“ _Always treat people with more respect than they treat you_ ,” he huffed. “Why’s your uncle so nice to _every_ one?” Zuko shrugged.

 

“That’s his curse. But it's _his_ bar, so no spitting in people's drinks. Even if they deserve it.” Zuko got Jet’s drink. Haru grumbled unhappily as he went back to the table. Zuko called for Katara’s cab. It was getting later, and the Saturday night revelers were beginning to pour in. Soon Jun, the other bartender on shift would be coming in. Zuko hoped he’d have time for a short break before the _Dragon_ got really busy, but he began to doubt it when first one, then a second group of sorority girls came in shouting out their houses. Zuko worked a kink out of his shoulder and waded into the throng of loud, obnoxiously flirtatious girls.

 

“What can I get-” he was cut off by the sound of something heavy falling over in the dining area. He heard Haru yelling and a woman’s shriek. Zuko vaulted over the bar and pushed through the knot of diners starting at the middle of the floor. Haru was trying to fend off Jet’s wildly flying fists without throwing any punches himself. Haru was at his core a lover and not a fighter. Katara, for her part was trying to stop the brawl.

 

“Are you crazy?” she shouted, grabbing hold of Jet’s shirt. “ _Get off of him!”_

 

“You thought you could just flirt with her right in front of me and I wouldn’t do anything about it?” Jet roared at Haru, ignoring Katara. “You thought I’d just let you disrespect me like that?”

 

“Jet, stop!” Katara caught his arm mid-swing. Unfortunately, he had too much momentum behind it, and Katara, already somewhat unsteady in her stilettos, was thrown completely off balance. She went sprawling to the floor, hitting her head on the corner of a table on her way down. Zuko stormed over and he grabbed Jet by the back of his shirt. Jet pulled away and took a swing at him, but Zuko had spent years in martial arts training. He ended the fight with little effort. He grabbed Jet’s shirt and hauled him off of the floor.

 

“You are banned,” he growled at the dazed and bloodied man. Jet stumbled after him.

 

“You...you can’t…” he protested. Zuko dragged him to the door. One of the other waiters held the it open for him.

 

“I can,” Zuko snapped. “And I am.” He tossed Jet out of the bar onto the pavement, and took a picture of him with his phone. “If you show your face around here ever again, you _will_ regret it. Now leave before I call the cops.” Jet glared at Zuko, sizing him up. In the dim glow of the street light, the  cold rage on Zuko’s already intimidating face sent a chill down Jet’s spine. He scrambled to his feet and dusted himself off with a scowl.

 

“I never liked this rat hole anyway,” he grumbled. Haru appeared at the door behind  Zuko and tossed Jet’s leather jacket at him.

 

“I was going to keep it,” Haru said, “but it _reeks_ of trying too hard.” Zuko turned went back into the bar. The table that Jet had knocked over had been righted and  all the guests had gone back to eating their meals, though the dull roar of conversations had fallen to subdued whispers. All eyes turned to Zuko as he walked back in, and he froze awkwardly by the host’s stand. One of the waiters, a new guy whose name Zuko couldn’t remember, tapped on his shoulder timidly.

 

“We...um...we took the girl to the back office,” he told Zuko. He nodded.

 

“Haru,” he called  over his shoulder. “You’re on bar!”

 

“Got it, chief!” Haru gave him a messy salute, and Zuko ducked into the back of the bar. Jun had arrived sometime during the scuffle and was helping Katara with a bag of ice.

 

“You couldn’t wait twenty more minutes to let the place get interesting, huh?” Jun had a sardonic smirk on her face. “Who’s working the bar?”

 

“Haru,” Zuko said.  Jun’s face contorted with disgust.

 

“That kid doesn’t know his sojus from his sakes,” she snapped. “Why does Iroh trust you with this place? You take care of her, I’ll go put Haru back on tables where he belongs.” Jun left in a huff. Zuko turned back to Katara and bit back a gasp. The fall had left her with a gash on her forehead, which was bleeding freely down her face, neck and the front of her dress. She rolled her eyes and pressed the ice pack to her forehead.

 

“Worst. Date. Ever,” she lamented. “I will _never_ go on another blind date again. I don't care if I die alone.” Zuko went over to the sink and wet a bunch of paper towels.

 

“That guy was a creep anyway,” he said. “You can do a _lot_ better.” Katara smiled weakly and took the stack from him.

 

“I must look a gory mess.” She dabbed at her face.

 

“Nah,” Zuko said, with a smirk. “It’s a good look for you. You look like someone no one should mess with.” Katara chuckled.

 

“No, that would be _you_ ,” she told him. “The way you took him out...very impressive. You’ve done that before, haven’t you?”

 

“Once or twice,” Zuko admitted. To his annoyance, he realized he was blushing again. Katara pulled the paper towel away from her face and raised her good eyebrow. Zuko notice that her forehead was beginning to swell, and he thought that maybe he had let Jet off too lightly after all.

 

“Is that how you impress the girls?” she asked him. Zuko forgot Jet immediately and froze.

 

“Um...that...no, I...I…” he stammered. Katara laughed outright.

 

“I’m only teasing, Zuko!” He dropped his gaze.

 

“Right,” he said. “I knew that.” Katara dabbed at her forehead.

 

“I think the bleeding stopped.” She looked up at Zuko. “Did I get all the blood?” Zuko shook his head and motioned to the side of her face.

 

“You still have  little…” He reached out for  the towels, and knelt in front of  her. “Here, let me.”

 

His hands were surprisingly gentle, Katara thought. He cleaned the last bit of blood off of her face. There was still blood on her neck and dress, but Zuko figured she it would be less noticeable than a wide streak of blood on her face. He didn’t let go of her when he was finished. He ran a thumb over her cheek. To his surprise, instead of pulling away, Katara leaned into his touch subtly. Zuko’s heart sped up, and he dropped his hand so she wouldn’t feel it trembling.

 

“Um…” he stepped back and wracked his brain for the words. Or maybe he was just buying time to work up the nerve. “Do you….”

 

_BZZZ_

_BZZZ_

_BZZZ_

 

Zuko fumbled and almost dropped his phone  in his surprise. He managed to catch it before it hit the floor, and answered it.

 

“Um...your cab is here,” he told Katara.

 

“Oh!” She had forgotten he called her one.  Katara grabbed her purse and stood up. “Thanks...for everything.”

 

 _Ask for her number,_ Zuko could imagine his uncle urging him. _Ask her now!_

  
“Any time,” he said instead. Katara ran a hand futilely through her tangled hair. With another smile, she walked out of the office, then the bar. Jun and Haru poked their heads in the door just in time to see Zuko slap his hand against his forehead.

 

“I’m never going to see her again, am I?” he asked them. Jun and Haru exchanged a glance.

 

“I mean, there’s a chance…?” Haru said uncertainly .

 

“It’s pretty unlikely,” Jun told him bluntly. “You blew it, kid.” Zuko groaned and dragged his hands down his cheeks.

 

“I hate my life,” he moaned.

 

“Cheer up,” Jun walked over and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “There’s a ton of sorority girls looking to make questionable decisions tonight.” Zuko rolled his eyes.

 

“Great.”

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

 

“That is a wonderful picture, Nephew,” Iroh said, looking at the wall of shame. Zuko had finally gotten around to printing it from his phone, and had just pinned it to the corkboard in the break room. Jet, with blood spilling from his nose  and down his chin, gazed back at the two, angry and bewildered. Iroh clapped his back.

 

“I’m very proud of you,” he said. “You held down the fort admirably.” Zuko looked at his uncle in astonishment.

 

“You do realize I got  into a fight, right?” he reminded Iroh. “You left me in charge of the bar and I got into a brawl.”  Iroh sniffed.

 

“From what I understand, it wasn’t much of a fight,” he said. “You protected Haru, rescued a lovely young lady, and you made it so we’ll never see that hooligan around here again. Like I said, I’m very proud. And now I know for sure I can count on you to look after this place when I’m on vacation.” Zuko forced down a groan, and shook his head. That was the last thing he wanted, but Iroh didn’t leave the _Jasmine Dragon_ often, and he was never gone long when he did.

 

“Speaking of the lovely young lady,” Zuko flinched. “I heard from Jun and Haru that you didn’t even ask for her number. I thought I taught you better than that.” Iroh shook his head.

 

“It didn’t really seem like the right time,” Zuko said. “She had just finished with the blind date from Koh, she was injured and I had just decked the guy...I don’t know… it seemed like a bad time.” Iroh sighed in disappointment.

 

“My bright, handsome young nephew is _still_ too nervous to talk to girls,” he lamented. “Where did I go wrong?”

 

“I gave her a couple of drinks on the house,” Zuko offered. Iroh sighed again.

 

“That’s progress, at least. I don’t suppose we’ll be seeing her again anytime soon?” Zuko shook his head and threw his arms out helplessly.

 

“She hasn’t been back in two weeks,” he said. “And I only got her first name.”

 

“Well,” Iroh stroked his beard thoughtfully, “maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Well, it’s time to open up. The lunch crowd will be in soon.”

 

Zuko and Iroh pulled the chairs down from the tables and the stools down from the bars. By the time they finished, the line chef, and one of the servers had arrived. An hour later, the first of the lunch guests had given their orders, and Zuko began mixing their drinks. It was never too crowded during this time of day- the _Dragon’s_ busiest times tended to be Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights- so Zuko didn’t have to give too much of his focus to his clients.

 

“Excuse me! Hey! Barkeep!!” Or so he thought. Zuko stifled a sigh and turned to the new patron at the end of the bar. There was a dark skinned man waving him over. He was in jean and a grey tee-shirt, exposing two arms full of tattoos. His hair had been shaved on the sides, and the remaining hair was in a wolf's tail at the crown. He looked familiar for some reason.

 

“Can I help you, sir?” Zuko greeted him.

 

“Nah, I’m good,” the man said. “I just wanted to come by and see you for myself.” Zuko blinked in surprise. The man laughed.

 

“Sorry, that came off a way creepier than I meant.” He stuck his hand out at Zuko. “I’m Sokka. You helped my sister out a few weeks ago. Katara? You remember?” Zuko’s face heated up, and he shook Sokka’s hand. Did he _remember_?

 

“Yeah, I remember,” he mumbled.

 

“Good,” Sokka said. “Anyway, thanks for having her back that way. I hope you _really_ clobbered that guy.” His face darkened and he scowled.

 

“Um...sure thing.” Zuko scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Can I...get you a drink?” Sokka waved him off.

  
“No, I really just came to thank you,”  he said. “For me and my dad. He was ready to jump on a plane and...ah... _speak_ to Jet himself, you know? But Katara said you’d handled him, and she’d blocked his number, so…” Sokka shrugged. “Also, I kind of wanted to see the guy my sister can’t shut up about.” That caught Zuko’s attention.

 

“She...what…?”  Katara had been talking to _her brother_ about _him_? Sokka nodded.

 

“We share an apartment by the university, and she seems to think I can’t hear her on her phone blabing to her friends when she’s in the kitchen and I’m in the living room. Trust me, our place is _not_ that big. I’m sure she’ll be in sooner or later to thank you herself, but you know, senior year and finals and all.”  

 

“Yeah...finals.” Zuko frowned at the floor thoughtfully. So _that’s_ why she hadn’t come back.  Sokka’s phone let out an obnoxious chirrup just then.

 

“That’s the girlfriend,” he told Zuko with a grin. “I’ve got ten minutes to get across town to meet her. Here,” Sokka reached into his pocket and pulled out a dingy, bent business card with the name of a popular tattoo parlour in the middle of town. On the back, bold black ink declared Sokka Imiq a tattoo artist. “Give me a call if you ever need anything. I owe you for what you did for Katara.”  

  
“No, honestly, you don’t,” Zuko protested. Sokka shook his head and held up his hands.

 

“Look, I get it,” he said. “You’re an honorable guy, and you did what any honorable guy would do that night. But that’s my baby sister, so if I say I owe you one, I owe you one.”

 

“ _Sokka_ ?” Zuko’s head flew to the door. Katara had just walked in. “What are _you_ doing here?” Sokka turned and winked at Zuko.

“ _That’s_ my cue to leave,” he whispered. “Hey, little sis. I just came to see this bar you can’t stop talking about. I’ve got to go meet Suki now, so I can’t grab a beer with you. Next time, okay?” Sokka flicked Katara’s nose, and with a final wave at Zuko, left. Katara glared after him a moment, then turned back to the bar.

 

She looked different than the last time Zuko had seen her. She was far more casual in black shorts and a red tank top, carrying a heavy looking book bag. Her hair was pulled back in a long braid that hung down her shoulder. The bump on her forehead was now a fading bruise.  Zuko swallowed nervously. She looked incredible.

 

“Um...hey…” he said. His shoulders crept up to his ears, but he couldn't seem to stand any straighter. He leaned against the wall, and folded his arms to make it look casual instead of like he was trying to hide in his own shirt.

 

“Hi.” Katara let her bag slide off of her back and rested it on the floor by her feet. She motioned over her shoulder. “That...ah...was my brother.”

 

“Yeah,” Zuko said. “He told me.” Katara's eyes snapped to meet his. They were sharp and suspicious.

 

“ _Did_ he?” she asked. “What did he say?” Zuko got the feeling her annoyance was directed at Sokka, which was a relief. He didn't want her angry at him _already._

 

“Nothing, really,” Zuko assured her. “He just wanted to thank me for…” His voice trailed off, and he shrugged.

 

“Oh…” Katara looked down at her feet. “Yeah. He pretty much hit the roof when I got home that night.”

 

That was an understatement. While Katara and Zuko had done their best to clean all the blood from her face, it was still on her neck and chest. That, along with the lump on her head and her state of general disarray had nearly sent Sokka on a murderous mission of revenge. After Katara had gotten him to settle down long enough to explain what happened, Sokka still wanted to beat Jet to death with a large stick, but he also wanted to go down to the bar to thank Zuko personally. Katara was able to stop him by bursting into mostly genuine tears, and getting her brother to spend the evening bringing her various snacks and running small errands for her. Between her cleaning up properly and changing into her pajamas, he managed to call their father, catch him up on the evening's events, get his girlfriend, Suki to come over and help cheer Katara up, and heat up a pot of soup before bundling Katara up in her favorite blanket on the couch.

 

She had hoped that she had sufficiently distracted her brother from finding her protector or hunting down Jet, and she hadn't brought it up to him since. It seemed she was wrong, which did not bode well for Jet. Or for keeping Sokka out of prison. Katara sighed in defeat.

 

“It's cool that he cares so much about you,” Zuko said after a moment. He cleared his throat. “Would you like something…? I can get you a menu.”

 

“Just water,” Katara replied. She hopped up on a stool. Zuko set the glass down on a napkin in front of her.

 

“I... didn't think I'd ever see you again,” Zuko admitted. Katara looked up in surprise. Zuko explained. “You can't have great memories of this place.”

 

“Oh.” Katara was suddenly fascinated by the ice in her glass. She stirred it with her straw. “ _All_ my memories of this place aren't so bad. Just the ones with Jet.” She glanced up at Zuko, almost shyly. “Even _that_ didn't end so badly.’

 

There was a cough from the door leading to the office. Zuko turned and saw Iroh gesturing wildly and miming dialing a phone. The tip of Zuko's unscarred ear burned, and he was sure the rest of his face was bright red, too. Katara leaned forward a bit to see what had caught Zuko's attention.

 

“Something wrong?” she asked. Zuko whirled back to her and shook his head.

 

“Nothing!” He winced at the sudden squeak in his voice. “Just uncle. This is...er...his bar.”

 

“Oh!” Katara started to get up. “I'm sorry. I'm keeping you from actual work.”

 

“Nonono!” Zuko insisted. “It's fine, really. We’re not even busy.” Katara hesitated.

 

“Well, I should probably head out soon, anyway. I have my last final this afternoon. I... I just wanted to come say thanks... I guess.” She straightened her spine and nodded decisively. “Yes, to thank you.”

 

“You don't have to-” Katara reached across the bar and took Zuko's hand.

 

“No, I do,” she insisted. “I do. I _want_ to. It's not just that you handled Jet. You..you were really sweet to me that whole night. I... felt safe.” Zuko leaned back in shock. She left the bar that night bruised and bleeding. He made her feel _safe_?

 

He looked down at her hand wrapped around his. He knew his uncle was lurking somewhere quietly urging him to make a move. He licked his lips nervously.

 

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” Zuko was poleaxed. Had she really just asked him…? But she was standing there waiting for an answer. Her face was flushed, and her wide blue eyes were...hopeful?

 

“Yes!” Zuko winced, and several heads snapped towards him. “I.. I mean, I'd love to.”

 

Great!” Katara smiled at him. It struck him how her whole face lit up when she smiled. He decided that he could learn to love her smile. “I should get going. But I'll be in touch with details.”

 

“Ok,” Zuko agreed. He grinned almost involuntarily and waved goodbye to her. Another cough from the office by drew his attention back to his uncle. Iroh held up his own phone this time as he banged his head lightly against the door frame.

 

“Oh!” Zuko gasped and jumped over the bar and ran out onto the street. “Wait! Katara, I need your number!”

 

Iroh stepped out and watch his nephew chase Katara with an exasperated smile. But, he reflected, it was still progress.

  


 


End file.
